He ate and drank without worry, from which I decided that our idea of Severina’s food being tainted was far off the mark.
“You were a proconsul,” I prompted, as Vestalis seemed to want to talk.
He swallowed his wine. “Went to several places. Spent a few years in Britannia.” He shuddered. “Never go to Britannia, Leonidas. It’s cold, damp, and full of howling savages. I preferred Hispania, but only just.”
I wasn’t certain how he wanted me to respond, so I gave him a polite nod.
“Hispania is where I mether.” Vestalis gestured with his cup to the sleeping Severina. “Came across her brother there—he’s a praetor in a small town among the olive groves. Severina and her mother were visiting him, just after Domitiana’s husband died. The brother, Severinus, wanted to get young Severina married off. She was trouble, though he tried to hide that fact. She chased after legionnaires and gladiators like a tart. The family hushed it up, but she was a worry. I sought a fortune, and Severinus sought a husband for his wayward sister. So I married her.”
Again, I had no idea how he wanted me to respond. I ate a few more grapes in silence.
“You wonder why, eh?” Vestalis’s humor faded. “I never had much money, though I could not complain about my career, or my lineage. But it was empty, in the end.”
Helvius had said that Vestalis had lost his first wife and daughter during his years as proconsul. I saw the grief in him still. If his affection lay strongly with that wife, he’d not have expected to form any attachment to Severina. He’d walked into the marriage knowing exactly what Severina was, and did not care.
“I wanted the comfort of a large house and plenty of money to take me into old age,” Vestalis went on. “The family is respectable enough, no matter how the women of it try to ruin that.Ihave great respectability. That is what I gave young Severinus in exchange for his sister’s wealth.”
The gaze Vestalis sent to Severina was one a man might give to an unruly child that he had no intention of looking after. There was unconcern, even detachment.
Vestalis inhaled one more handful of almonds. “Go home, gladiator. She won’t wake until morning.”
I rose, swaying a little. I moved one step to Severina, intending to straighten her stola over her exposed legs, but Vestalis shooed me off.
“Her maids will attend her. Good night, Leonidas the Spartan. Thank you for speaking with me.”
I inclined my head. Out of nowhere, Severina’s bodyguard appeared, ready to usher me from the room.
Vestalis snatched the last of the grapes and stepped out to the peristyle, brushing past me as though he’d already forgotten about me. The bodyguard motioned for me to follow him.
I left the massive, quiet house. Gaius and Merope were nowhere in sight—I assumed they’d been escorted out a servants’ entrance. The bodyguard said nothing at all, only opened the front door at the vestibule and stood aside so I could depart into the night.
As soon as I was on the street, the door shut with a bang, and I heard the bolt being dragged across it.
I was alone at the top of the Caelian Hill, having learned absolutely nothing from the one person I’d most suspected of the crimes. No one had tried to poison me, strike me, kill me, or butcher me.
I drew in lungsful of the cool night air, preparing for the long and unsteady walk home.
* * *
I was nearly robbedseveral times as I stumbled to the Quirinal. I carried little money, but this did not stop a burly, smelly man trying to push me into a wall and another from attempting to garrote me. My body came alive to elbow the garotte man hard in the gut until he retched in pain and for the burly man to be smashed face-forward into the wall for his trouble. In the darkness of the Vicus Compiti Acili, a third man came at me with a knife, only to stop short a few paces away.
“Aren’t you Leonidas the Spartan?” His tone held admiration. “I’ve seen many of your bouts. Won coin on you.”
I supposed he wanted me to congratulate him. I growled like the fierce fighting man I had been, and he chortled in delight. “Good night to you then.”
Before I left him, I grabbed his knife and threw it across the stones, where it skittered into a sewer. He’d not be able to rob another with it tonight.
He tottered away, laughing. “Bested by Leonidas the Spartan. No one will believe me.”
I kept a wary eye out the rest of the way home.
The aftermath of the fights was crashing me toward sleep on top of all the wine and food. I had to hold on to the walls as I climbed the stairs to our apartment, and this after fumbling with the outer door’s key for a very long time.
I found Cassia still awake. She hummed to herself as she bent over her scrolls, a lone oil lamp flickering in the darkness. The point of light stabbed into my eyes, my head aching.
I shut the door after I nearly fell into the apartment and leaned against it, wondering how I would reach the far side of the room and my bed.
“You.” I pointed a wobbling finger at Cassia. “You found a way to go after all.”
